by Bret Harte
comprehend! you have--of apossibility--a wife?"
"No, I'm a widower," said Jenkinson sharply.
"Then I congratulate you. My friend Roberto would have kissed her. Itis also of his habit. Truly you have escaped much. I embrace you,Jenkinson."
He threw his arms gravely around Jenkinson, in whose astounded face atlast an expression of dry humor faintly dawned. After a moment'ssurvey of Don Jose's impenetrable gravity, he coolly gathered up thegold coins, and saying that he would assess the damages and return thedifference, he left the room as abruptly as he had entered it.
But Don Jose was not destined to remain long in peaceful study of theAmerican Constitution. He had barely taken up the book again andrenewed his serious contemplation of its excellences when there wasanother knock at his door. This time, in obedience to his invitationto enter, the new visitor approached with more deliberation and acertain formality.
He was a young man of apparently the same age as Don Jose, handsomelydressed, and of a quiet self-possession and gravity almost equal to hishost's.
"I believe I am addressing Don Jose Sepulvida," he said with a familiaryet courteous inclination of his handsome head. Don Jose, who hadrisen in marked contrast to his reception of his former guest,answered,--
"You are truly making to him a great honor."
"Well, you're going it blind as far as I'M concerned certainly," saidthe young man, with a slight smile, "for you don't know ME."
"Pardon, my friend," said Don Jose gently, "in this book, this greatTestament of your glorious nation, I have read that you are all equal,one not above, one not below the other. I salute in you the Nation!It is enough!"
"Thank you," returned the stranger, with a face that, saving thefaintest twinkle in the corner of his dark eyes, was as immovable ashis host's, "but for the purposes of my business I had better say I amJack Hamlin, a gambler, and am just now dealing faro in the Floridasaloon round the corner."
He paused carelessly, as if to allow Don Jose the protest he did notmake, and then continued,--
"The matter is this. One of your vaqueros, who is, however, anAmerican, was round there an hour ago bucking against faro, and put upand LOST, not only the mare he was riding, but a horse which I havejust learned is yours. Now we reckon, over there, that we can makeenough money playing a square game, without being obliged to takeproperty from a howling drunkard, to say nothing of it not belonging tohim, and I've come here, Don Jose, to say that if you'll send over andbring away your man and your horse, you can have 'em both."
"If I have comprehended, honest Hamlin," said Don Jose slowly, "thisRoberto, who was my vaquero and is my brother, has approached this farogame by himself unsolicited?"
"He certainly didn't seem shy of it," said Mr. Hamlin with equalgravity. "To the best of my knowledge he looked as if he'd been therebefore."
"And if he had won, excellent Hamlin, you would have given him theequal of his mare and horse?"
"A hundred dollars for each, yes, certainly."
"Then I see not why I should send for the property which is truly nolonger mine, nor for my brother who will amuse himself after thefashion of his country in the company of so honorable a caballero asyourself? Stay! oh imbecile that I am. I have not remembered. Youwould possibly say that he has no longer of horses! Play him; playhim, admirable yet prudent Hamlin. I have two thousand horses! Of asurety he cannot exhaust them in four hours. Therefore play him, trustto me for recompensa, and have no fear."
A quick flush covered the stranger's cheek, and his eyebrowsmomentarily contracted. He walked carelessly to the window, however,glanced out, and then turned to Don Jose.
"May I ask, then," he said with almost sepulchral gravity, "is anybodytaking care of you?"
"Truly," returned Don Jose cautiously, "there is my brother and friendRoberto."
"Ah! Roberto, certainly," said Mr. Hamlin profoundly.
"Why do you ask, considerate friend?"
"Oh! I only thought, with your kind of opinions, you must often feellonely in California. Good-bye." He shook Don Jose's hand heartily,took up his hat, inclined his head with graceful seriousness, andpassed out of the room. In the hall he met the landlord.
"Well," said Jenkinson, with a smile half anxious, half insinuating,"you saw him? What do you think of him?"
Mr. Hamlin paused and regarded Jenkinson with a calmly contemplativeair, as if he were trying to remember first who he was, and secondlywhy he should speak to him at all. "Think of whom?" he repeatedcarelessly.
"Why him--you know--Don Jose."
"I did not see anything the matter with him," returned Hamlin withfrigid simplicity.
"What? nothing queer?"
"Well, no--except that he's a guest in YOUR house," said Hamlin withgreat cheerfulness. "But then, as you keep a hotel, you can't helpoccasionally admitting a--gentleman."
Mr. Jenkinson smiled the uneasy smile of a man who knew that hisinterlocutor's playfulness occasionally extended to the use of aderringer, in which he was singularly prompt and proficient, and Mr.Hamlin, equally conscious of that knowledge on the part of hiscompanion, descended the staircase composedly.
But the day had darkened gradually into night, and Don Jose was at lastcompelled to put aside his volume. The sound of a large bell rungviolently along the hall and passages admonished him that the Americandinner was ready, and although the viands and the mode of cooking werenot entirely to his fancy, he had, in his grave enthusiasm for thenational habits, attended the table d'hote regularly with Roberto. Onreaching the lower hall he was informed that his henchman had earlysuccumbed to the potency of his libations, and had already been carriedby two men to bed. Receiving this information with his usual stoicalcomposure, he entered the dining-room, but was surprised to find that aseparate table had been prepared for him by the landlord, and that arude attempt had been made to serve him with his own native dishes.
"Senores y Senoritas," said Don Jose, turning from it and with gravepoliteness addressing the assembled company, "if I seem to-day topartake alone and in a reserved fashion of certain viands that havebeen prepared for me, it is truly from no lack of courtesy to yourdistinguished company, but rather, I protest, to avoid the appearanceof greater discourtesy to our excellent Jenkinson, who has taken somepains and trouble to comport his establishment to what he conceives tobe my desires. Wherefore, my friends, in God's name fall to, the sameas if I were not present, and grace be with you."
A few stared at the tall, gentle, melancholy figure with someastonishment; a few whispered to their neighbors; but when, at theconclusion of his repast, Don Jose arose and again saluted the company,one or two stood up and smilingly returned the courtesy, and PollyJenkinson, the landlord's youngest daughter, to the great delight ofher companions, blew him a kiss.
After visiting the vaquero in his room, and with his own hand applyingsome native ointment to the various contusions and scratches whichrecorded the late engagements of the unconscious Roberto, Don Joseplaced a gold coin in the hands of the Irish chamber-maid, and biddingher look after the sleeper, he threw his serape over his shoulders andpassed into the road. The loungers on the veranda gazed at himcuriously, yet half acknowledged his usual serious salutation, and madeway for him with a certain respect. Avoiding the few narrow streets ofthe little town, he pursued his way meditatively along the highroad,returning to the hotel after an hour's ramble, as the eveningstage-coach had deposited its passengers and departed.
"There's a lady waiting to see you upstairs," said the landlord with apeculiar smile. "She rather allowed it wasn't the proper thing to seeyou alone, or she wasn't quite ekal to it, I reckon, for she got myPolly to stand by her."
"Your Polly, good Jenkinson?" said Don Jose interrogatively.
"My darter, Don Jose."
"Ah, truly! I am twice blessed," said Don Jose, gravely ascending thestaircase.
On entering the room he perceived a tall, large-featured woman with anextraordinary quantity of blond hair parted on one side of her br
oadforehead, sitting upon the sofa. Beside her sat Polly Jenkinson, herfresh, honest, and rather pretty face beaming with delightedexpectation and mischief. Don Jose saluted them with a formalcourtesy, which, however, had no trace of the fact that he really didnot remember anything of them.
"I called," said the large-featured woman with a voice equallypronounced, "in reference to a request from you, which, though perhapsunconventional in the extreme, I have been able to meet by theintervention of this young lady's company. My name on this card maynot be familiar to you--but I am 'Dorothy Dewdrop.'"
A slight movement of abstraction